You and I, Right or Wrong
by chalantness
Summary: "This changes nothing." He narrows his eyes from behind his glasses and hopes he sounds as convincing as he needs to be. But she just tilts her head, amused. "Wrong again, Sidekick. This changes everything."
1. Part 1 of 3

The only plausible explanation to this situation is that there are none. Being as righteous as a hero could ever be, there is no justification to bringing the enemy _into your home_.

He knows this isn't his home. Luckily, they are far enough away from his home for them to more or less not get caught. But it's the motel room that he is staying in for the extended leave he had to take to deal with this mission and that's still a pretty stupid thing, bringing her into a place where he was supposed to rest his head and try to get some sleep. Well, he officially tossed any hopes of _that_ out the window.

She's out cold as he lays her onto the bed.

He is careful to only turn the light on the nightstand on. Due to her injuries, she's probably not waking up any time soon, but he wants no chances taken on this.

At least she's stopped bleeding. His pride makes the fact hard to admit to his self that seeing the red liquid pool out from the gash on her side, mixing with the puddle of rainwater and goo around her, was unsettling. His clothes are more or less drenched with the stuff from having to scoop her into his arms. He can still smell the rust.

He doesn't hesitate (much) to disarm her. He removes her mask, her boots, her belts, any and all weapons, until she just has her green kimono, tattered and ripped and stained, and her bandaging on.

He takes a short trip down to his car to lock everything up and then hurries the hell back to the room. Unconscious and disarmed or not, he just doesn't _like_ the idea of her being abandoned and a threat… especially to _him_. Of course she's still out cold when he gets back, but you can't blame him for being paranoid. She had an annoying talent of eluding her capturers despite any odds.

When he pulls up one a chair at the foot of the bed and takes a seat, he makes the first mistake of looking at her.

She is undeniably quite stunning in a wild and dangerous kind of way, even to him. Her mask did little to hide that. Rather, it gave him a reason to ignore the fact; a reminder that, beautiful or not, her hands are stained with blood.

But she's _still_ beautiful.

Her eyelashes are long like feathers, her hair like a mane around an exotic face.

And her _eyes_, had they been open (which, thank whatever all-powerful force that made it so, were not), would have drawn him in; like a black hole: dark but entrancing.

There is a small but strong part of him, and he is unsure if he wants to find out _how_ strong, that likes to indulge him with the possibility behind her evil. Some sort of events that tarnish her past and corrupted her. He likes to believe that there is more behind her than a woman who murders for cash. It's a stretch, but perhaps thinking she is redeemable makes him feel less guilty of his attraction towards her.

But then he shakes his head, rubs his temples, and hates himself even more for trying to right something that is obviously very, very wrong.

His second mistake of the night: falling asleep in that chair

... ...

His nap is short-lived. Call it a sixth sense or hero's intuition or _whatever_, but he finds himself waking up, looking over, and _not _seeing her form lying there underneath the dim glow of the lamp.

His heart nearly drops in his chest and he jumps out of his chair, letting out a groan at how every muscle seems to ache. The clock tells him it's only been about three hours since he knocked out. It's still dark and storming outside, the room hasn't gotten any warmer, and he has yet to change out of his clothes that are still drenched with rainwater and blood and goo.

It seems that the only difference between now and before he fell asleep is that sheis _gone_, which (in his opinion), makes all the difference in the world.

He rubs his eyes and decides that really wants – _needs_ to get out of this damn costume. So what if she got out? She's disarmed and seriously injured, and if she wants to face a storm alone, so be it.

He tries to convince himself that he doesn't care what happens to her.

"Whatever," he mumbles to himself, rubbing his neck as he heads into the bathroom. He _doesn't_ care, all right? Of course the hero in him does, but that's beside the point.

He chooses to leave the lights off. The motel room is small enough that the light from the lamp reaches the bathroom and that's all he really needs to see. He just wants to run a hot bath, soak and forget his problems, and he's not in the mood to do so with the bathroom lights blinding him.

He sighs and peels off his gloves, un-strapping his belt and removing his top, discarding it to the floor. In his dimly lit reflection, he can see a scar or two along his sides.

"Did I scratch too hard?" a sultry voice questions behind him, and he inhales sharply and flicks on the switch as he whips around. Behind his mask he flinches at the sudden light, and even Cheshire flinches away at the offending brightness, the bathtub water swishing around her. "Damn, was that necessary?"

"What are you doing here?"

Her eyes are blatantly looking at his bare upper torso, and he tries to suppress the odd satisfaction he feels when she smirks appreciatively. "Please, don't let me stop you."

"What are you doing here?" he repeats, ignoring her comment.

"You brought me here." She sighs, as if answering it was tedious. "I should really be asking _you_ what I'm doing here."

"You could have left when you woke up," he reminds. "Or tried to kill me when I was sleeping. Why didn't you?"

"I'm not stupid, you know. I know my condition right now, and a raging storm is no place to be jumping off rooftops with no equipment and a few bad bruises." She smirks. "And I didn't kill you because I thought that would take away from the potential entertainment tonight. But the better question is that you could have let me fall to my death, or left me outside to die tonight, so why didn't _you?_"

He narrows his eyes (unseen by her behind his mask) and says nothing. She shrugs in an _oh well_ manner that tells him she'll be getting her answer eventually.

His eyes drift, and he sees her blood- and dirt-stained garments lying in a lump on the floor. The bath water is still a bit steamy, with traces of red blood floating around, so it's not far-fetched to believe she hadn't gotten into the tub too long before he had woken up.

"Care to join me?"

He blinks, seeming to focus back on reality, and folds his arms over his chest. "Don't joke around. I'd rather not play games with you, Cheshire."

"Who's joking? And besides," she lifts herself out of the tub and he quickly looks away, fighting the heat he feels rushing to his cheeks because he's _not blushing_, "games are so much fun."

She pauses, some of the water spilling over the side of the tub and creating a puddle on the floor, and then laughs.

"I make you nervous. You're just as precious as your little sidekick friends."

"They're not sidekicks," he snaps. He is staring at the crown molding along the ceiling of the bathroom as if it were the most fascinating thing he had ever seen, carefully _not_ looking anywhere in her direction. She laughs, clearly amused and clearly in control, and her bare feet make light splashes against the puddle as she walks around the small bathroom. "And you don't make me nervous."

"Then why won't you look at me?"

He clenches his jaw and whips his head around. It is more of an impulse, really, because he isn't really thinking clearly.

But she already has a white towel cinched around her form when he looks at her, a smug smile donned on her face and a hand placed over her hip. The towel barely covers her figure, and the way she's looking at him suggests that she is well aware of this, but he figures it's better than no cover at all. There is only so much control he can have when they're both half-undressed in such close proximity like this.

"That's better." She steps forward and places a hand on his arms, pushing them to his sides so that their bodies are pressed together. "See something you like?"

He wonders how she's doing that—being the one who's banged up and narrowly avoided death a few hours ago, yet also the one who is in complete control of the situation.

_It's the confidence,_ he muses in his mind, though it's a little hard to form coherent thoughts when she is trailing her fingers up the contours of his abs and,

"Don't." His voice is low and demanding as he snatches her wrist, holding it away.

Her free hand drops on his other arm and slides along his bicep and up his shoulder, resting on the back of his neck. "And why not?"

"Because," he says through his teeth.

She rises slightly on the balls of her feet, her breath too warm against his skin as she whispers into his ear, "You still think you're in my league, Sidekick? Then show me."

Her hand slips up and under his chin and brings their lips closer, but he's the one that closes that final distance and he can feel her smirking into the kiss to prove she knew he wouldn't be fighting her.

His lips are ravaging hers as she's pulling him with her, not even bothering with the light as they stumble out of the bathroom. Her hands dance across his skin as they make it onto the bed, his knees falling onto the mattress on opposite sides of her waist as he lowers her so her back is flat against the sheets. He feels the towel loosening around her and wonders how far things will go if it just drops.

He pulls back, breath heavy as he pushes his lips to her throat and sucks on her pulse point. She actually tips her head back and lets out this _purring_ sound, raking her fingers through his hair.

They both know she's letting him feel like he has some control here even though he doesn't, but right now he finds it strangely hot and he's not going to stop her

... ...

Her mouth is open as she sucks in ragged breaths, claws digging into his shoulders. He's _definitely_ going to have more scratches and bruises in the morning than he started out with.

It's honestly a surprise to him that she's giving him any sort of satisfaction in this by purring and moaning to show him he's getting it right. She hisses at him to go faster because she needs him to and it just isn't her style (okay, the hissing part probably is), this whole vulnerability thing. He thinks maybe it's a façade, or maybe she's just too lost in everything to realize what she's doing, or he thinks…

Well, he's going to have to come back to that thought when he really _can_ think.

He's kissing every inch of her skin in that gentle way that makes it seem like they're actually making love to each other, not just fucking each other senseless because they can.

And then when he realizes she's so, _so close_ (because apparently his mind is coherent enough to process this), he goes slower, so that they're barely moving, and finds himself just focusing on kissing her. It's far more intimate than any of this should be, but she lets out this noise that may or may not be a whimper and he just has this urge to kiss her when she reaches the point of no return.

It's only several heartbeats after hers when he's parting their lips and seeing his own stars, and she runs her fingers along his face. The small part of him that registers it thinks that she's going for the mask she has yet to pull off, but instead they slide over his temple and through his hair, bringing him into a heady kiss as he comes down from his high.

When he opens his eyes god knows how long after, a flash of lightning illuminates the room, and all he sees in that split second is her face glistening in a light cover of sweat and her big, black eyes staring up at him, unreadable as always.

He counts just over a hundred of her breaths before she lifts her hands, fingers touching the edges of his mask.

His reflex is his hand grasping her elbow and keeping it in place. "Don't."

"Why not, Sidekick?" She sounds… _different._ He can't really place it, and he's not sure he'll ever be able to place it, but it's just… _different_.

He kind of just stares at her for a moment, into those eyes that always draw him in, and releases her elbow to reach over and turn off the lamp. It's still dark out, still storming, but all he feels right now is warmth and _her_ as she peels off his mask and takes in how bright his blue eyes are.

... ...

Being well-prepared used to be a nuisance to himself, the compulsive need to have a back-up for every back-up. But it has its conveniences.

She is sitting cross-legged on top of the bed, pulling her hair back into a perfectly disheveled ponytail, and her black bra and underwear are completely visible through the back-up dress shirt he had to lend her. He tosses her the pair of heels she convinced him to buy as well as the keys to the rental car before pulling the shades back over his eyes, grabbing his suitcase and turning back for the door.

"Leaving so soon?"

He pauses, one hand on the knob, and turns back around to face her. She's gotten off of the bed and made her way over, running her fingers along the material of his blazer.

"We agreed on this exchange. You get the car with your stuff, find your way, and I go on schedule," he replies.

"So cold, leaving a lady to fend for herself," she sighs, a smirk playing on her pouting lips as she adds, "especially after last night."

"This changes nothing." He narrows his eyes from behind his glasses and hopes he sounds as convincing as he needs to be.

But she just tilts her head, amused. "Wrong again, Sidekick. This changes _everything_," she purrs into his ear in that sultry voice of hers again.

She rests her hands at the base of his neck and kisses him long and hard, smirking into the kiss again. He hates how he's just giving her whatever she wants, but he hates even more that she absolutely loves it and that it kind of turns him on. When it dawns on him what she's doing, he half-pushes her away, just far enough to slip out of the room and shut the door.

... ...

He dumps his stuff off at his apartment as soon as he gets back in the city and makes his way over to Mount Justice.

He doesn't know why, he just does it.

M'gann is there when he arrives, probably because she sensed him or whatever, and her whole face lights up. She flies over to him and hugs him and he finds himself smiling a little when he hugs her back. They're not close or anything but she's probably just overly friendly. "It's been awhile," she says, tucking her hair behind her ear. "Come on, we're about to have dinner!" she adds, pulling him along.

Conner has an oven mitt on and is carrying a tray of lasagna when they walk in, and they sort of just stare at each other for a prolonged second before he greets, "Hey," and kind of smirks.

Everyone else is in their pajamas with blankets and pillows everywhere, crowding around the large screen and playing some four-player racing game. Wally, Dick, Artemis, and another blonde with curly hair are on the floor right in front of the screen with controllers in their hands, taunting and cursing at each other, and Kaldur is sitting on the couch beside a younger-looking, pale blonde, laughing.

He recognizes Cassie as the curly blonde who is playing, Diana's protégée whom he's met more than a few times in the past. The pale blonde with the shorter hair sitting with Kaldur must've been the girl they had rescued from the Department of Extranormal Operations a few weeks ago. Her name is Suzie or something like that. Funny. She didn't _look_ like a Suzie.

When the person in the top-right corner places first, Cassie throws her controller into the air and catches it as she exclaims, "I won, suckers!"

He laughs louder than he planned to and pretty soon all of their eyes are on him.

"No way, is that Roy?" Cassie gasps, flying over to him and tackling him into a hug. "It's been a while!"

"Yeah," he exhales. "Definitely."

"What're you doing here?" This from Wally, who is looking at him with wide eyes one minute, and then glancing back over his shoulder at Artemis, who has not moved from the couch, in another.

"Just… thought I'd drop by and visit. Solo act or not, I can spend a little downtime with my friends," he reminds. Kaldur drops a hand on his shoulder and smiles at him like he's proud and maybe like he's missed seeing him more often. He returns the smile and thinks maybe it's possible that he's sort of been an ass by trying to cut _everyone_ off just because he didn't want to be sidekick anymore.

The pale blonde beside him gives this shy smile, extending her hand when Dick nudges her forward. "I'm Suzie."

He shakes her hand. "I'm Red—actually, you can call me Roy."

"I know who you are," she assures, voice light. "I've heard a lot of great things about you." Dick laughs in a warm kind of way that puts a blush on her fair cheeks as he pulls her away.

When he looks back, Wally is helping Artemis off the couch and leading her towards them. The speedster says something to her that makes her let out a laugh, and when her eyes finally meet his, he is surprised when her smile doesn't fade. Instead, she arches an eyebrow and sort of just looks at him, and he nods back and figures they can spare one night of antagonism to enjoy being with their friends.

"Come on everybody!" M'gann exclaims, levitating their plates and utensils and glasses onto the table with one hand while carrying a pitcher of juice in the other. "Dinner's served!"

He doesn't _plan_ on staying long after dinner, exchanging mission stories around the table and crashing on the couch with the others after a long and heated gaming marathon. It just sort of _happens_.

He's starting to forget that the mission had happened at all.

... ...

Kaldur lends him some shorts in the morning (well, it's brunch when they all finally wake up) when he tells him they planned a beach day at the bottom of the mountain. Of _course_ they would find another reason to fool around, but it's summer and he figures everyone is allowed their days off, so he doesn't protest when M'gann asks him to blow up beach balls and carry two picnic baskets of food down with them.

Sometime after their hour-long volleyball match and before their late lunch/early dinner spread, when they're lounging around, he finds that they're all kind of coupled.

Cassie and Kaldur are wading knee-deep into the ocean, laughing with their heads bowed and their hands linked just above the surface. Artemis lays on her stomach on a beach towel, an amused expression on her face as she watches Wally building _something_ in the sand – he wasn't quite sure _what_ it was at the moment. M'gann and Conner are tending to their hotdogs and patties near the picnic blanket, a pleasant smile on his face as she is sitting in his lap, talking and grilling. Dick and Suzie are near them as she slices fruit and he tosses grapes into her mouth, the both of them chatting animatedly.

It's kind of refreshing, actually, seeing them enjoy something beyond heroism. He tries not to let himself think of Cheshire. It's not like that between them and he doesn't _want_ it to be.

He_ doesn't_.

... ...

He is on a rooftop in the middle of a night patrol when she shows up. He was just standing there, arms crossed, eyes scanning the city below him, when she just down behind him. He barely heard anything above the faint wind, didn't see anything, but he just sort of _knew_ that it was her before turning around and seeing her straightening out of a crouch, that mask staring right back at him.

"Cheshire," he says needlessly, just for the sake of trying to sound pissed off at her. He's not, so it's not very effective.

She places a hand on her hip. "Babysitting your little sidekick friends, huh?"

"No. What are you doing here?"

"Is that any way to treat a lady?" Her tone is teasing and dangerous, the one of someone trying to draw in her prey. "Especially one you so indecently left in a motel room to fend for herself."

"You found your way back. Besides, you were the one who agreed to the arrangement." He folds his arms over his chest. "You got lucky with the car. I was tempted to leave you there with nothing."

"Ouch," she laughs sarcastically, almost bitterly. "But," she adds in a sigh, shrugging one shoulder, "if trying to be rude is what you want then so be it. I just came here to get what _I_ want, and since you apparently know me so well, you know I _always_ get what I want."

"Yeah? And what is that?" he questions.

"Oh, I think you already know." She steps forward until they're right in front of each other and she's pushing his arms aside. "We both want the same thing."

"We don't," he nearly snaps. When one hand drops on his bicep and the other slides its way to the back of his neck, he gets this strong sense of déjà vu. "We will never want the same thing."

"We won't?" she laughs. He feels his blood boiling at all her laughter and play, but he thinks maybe that's the point. "I think you're _lying_, Sidekick."

"I'm not a sidekick."

"Then show me," she challenges. (He thinks she needs a new catchphrase.) "Show me how strong those arms of yours are."

He nearly growls in response, all of his rage and intensity (and not all even towards her) building up until he's pushing her back against the brick wall of the skylight, her legs wrapping around his waist as he rips her mask off and presses their lips hungrily together. He doesn't know why he wants to play this dangerous game with her, but he could care less right now and _that_ is what scares him the most.

For once, he is thankful for the shadows that envelop them, tucking them and their secrets away into the night as they have their way with each other on that rooftop. It's better this way.

... ...

He joins them on a simple mission because he's got nothing better to do (he does) and Cassie and M'gann are really good at that nagging thing.

It's a really easy one. Red Tornado just wants them to drop by this warehouse where they supposedly make vehicle parts and gather information about their customers without causing a scene. It's entirely Dick's department, the sneaking around and hacking business, though he takes Wally and Kaldur as back-up and leaves the rest of them to keep watch outside. It's more boring than it sounds.

Being linked up with the rest of them is not something he's too thrilled about.

It's an awesome way to communicate covertly and everything, but having everyone's thoughts in his head all at once is testing his patience.

He can hear Dick and Wally arguing while Kaldur plays the Big Brother and tries to come between them, and M'gann and Cassie and occasionally Suzie are chatting animatedly about some engagement. The only quiet ones are Superboy (who is on the roof with M'gann and the camouflaged bioship) and Artemis, who he finds towards the back, examining her arrow's fletching and looking bored.

It honestly surprises him that she says anything to him.

"Why haven't you talked to him yet?" She asks this in a hushed whisper. He wonders if this prevents the others from hearing, or if she's doing this to keep their cover, or if she's just genuinely hurt.

"What are you talking about?"

"Real mature," she practically hisses. "I don't know what happened before I came along, but I seriously doubt that it was bad enough for him to deserve the cold shoulder from you, especially about _this._"

"I don't know what you're talking about," he informs in an annoyed huff. He crosses his arms, but she stubbornly mimics him and stands her ground.

"Cut that out! You know what I'm talking about. Even I have way more respect for him, and _you_," she jabs a finger at him, "have known him so much longer."

"No, I actually _don't_ know what you're talking about," he says, batting her hand away, "or _who_ you're talking about, for that matter."

"I… really?" The hostility is gone from her face in seconds and replaced with bewilderment. "You don't?"

"No. Do you plan on telling me?"

She relaxes a little from her tense stance and takes a half-step back, glancing at him from an angle. "_It's Ollie and Dinah_," she says after a long moment. He is about to scold her for saying that aloud for anyone to hear before realizing she actually said it mentally. "_The engagement that Megan and Cassie and Suzie have been thinking about this entire time is theirs. You really didn't know?_"

His mind is dead silent. "_What? How was I supposed to know about this when no one's told me until now?_"

"_They sent everyone invitations_," she explains. "_The League is hosting a party for them and everyone is invited. Have you checked your mail recently?_"

"_I've been… busy lately_," he says in his mind, being sure to keep his mind away from Cheshire. He has no idea what the others can see, if they can see _into_ his mind at all, but he's not taking chances.

"_I knew it! It's definitely a hot date. You've been holding out on us, man!_" Wally complains. "_Who is she? What does she look like? How long have you been together? Does she know that you're a—_"

"_Do not be ridiculous, Wally_," Kaldur interrupts, tone reprimanding. "_And it is not within our rights to pry in his personal life._"

"_Thanks, Kal. But I don't have much of a personal life for him to pry through. My work is too important for one._"

"_You sound just like Batman,_" Dick snickers. "_And look where that got him. Unless you—hah! Never mind._"

"_Gah! There you go again keeping secrets,_" Wally complains.

But the voices in his head seem to fade into the background as the girl beside him looks up at him with creased eyebrows and this low voice as she asks, "You _are_ coming to the party, right?"

... ...

He finds the invitation sitting in a stack of envelopes in the middle of his small kitchen table of his small apartment. It's thicker and a bit heavier than all the other bills and junk mail he gets, and it's a cream color with his name swirled in a fancy script across it. The card inside is off-white and entirely handwritten, telling him that he's been cordially invited and that it's this coming weekend at the Hall of Justice.

He isn't really sure how he could miss it, but the fact he wasn't the one to bring in the mail probably contributed.

It was still sealed when he opened it. In fact everything was, so he knows she didn't go snooping through his stuff. That surprises him less than it should, but she's been in and out of here for the past few days and he feels more comfortable with it than he's supposed to so it probably means something.

He makes it a point to toss it in the fireplace before moving to the room. (Just because she's there doesn't mean he trusts her _at all_ to be finding this stuff out.)

Her hands are all over him before he's barely stepped through the door.

She tosses his bow and quiver aside and claws at his costume, fingernails already digging into his skin. She knows she hates it when she does this, tossing his stuff aside like it's invaluable and ripping his clothes like he has so many spares to go around. But he knows she's well aware of how this frustrates him and probably does it purposely because angry, crazy-passionate sex is kind of their thing.

... ...

She's still there when he wakes up in the morning.

After they've fallen asleep, she usually wakes up at some odd hour of the night (he pretends like it doesn't wake him up, too) and leaves. He's never questioned it, never thought it meant anything to him until now, when he finds himself turning around and she's still there, back pressing against his chest. He kind of just stares for a minute or two, like maybe he's still half asleep and just picturing her there.

But then she shifts against him and makes this little purring sound as she mumbles, "I didn't take you for a morning cuddler."

"I don't cuddle."

She cracks open on eye and tilts her head back to look at him. "Sure you don't."

The smirk on her face has him tossing the covers aside and storming to his dresser, throwing open the top drawer. She chuckles and flips over onto her other side, watching him.

"I'll be gone for the weekend." He doesn't know why he says this, or why he watches her through the mirror on the wall as if expecting some sort of reaction. It just sort of _happens_.

He thinks it takes a second longer than necessary for her to shrug one shoulder and reply, "Is this supposed to mean anything to me?" It could just be his imagination, too.

"No." He slams the drawer shut, heads for the bathroom. "It's not."

(She's gone when he gets out of the shower. No, this doesn't surprise him in the slightest.)

... ...

The party is a lot fancier than he expected, with their masks and costumes off and everyone in suits and evening gowns.

An impressive buffet table runs along one of the walls (and that's just the refreshments and hors d'œuvres) and he won't deny that it's a nice change of pace, everyone mingling and _not _thinking about work. It's entirely too formal and extravagant for such a small amount of people, but they're rarely able to do things like this and since Diana convinced Bruce to pay for the entire thing, then why not?

He hasn't talked to Ollie yet, however. His former mentor tried to greet him when he first walked in, but got whisked away by Shayerah and has been passed off from person to person ever since.

"It might be a while until you talk to him," Dick laughs when he tells him this.

He smiles behind his glass when he takes a sip. "He _is_ the man of the hour." He eyes the boy beside him. "This is some party."

Dick shrugs his shoulders. "Kind of formal for my taste, but whatever suits them, I guess. And Bats seems to be enjoying himself," he adds with a chuckle.

He arches an eyebrow, smiling in amusement as he follows Dick's gaze and spots the billionaire from across the room. A small but pleasant smile replaces his usual serious frown or occasional scowl, which may or may not have to do with the fact that Diana has their arms linked together as she is chatting with J'onn.

"When did that happen?" he asks.

"It didn't. Bats is way too stubborn to admit that he may have been wrong about heroism and having a personal life."

He arches an eyebrow at the younger teen and remembers what the Boy Wonder had commented during their mission the other week. The way Dick looks up at him with his infamous smirk tells him he knows they're thinking about the same thing, and he has a vague feeling he's trying to make a point here. So he rolls his eyes and Dick just laughs, sliding his hands into his pockets.

"What you said before, about not having a personal life because you're too into your work," Dick begins, "Did you really mean that?"

His tone is pretty serious considering this is _him_, but Dick isn't staring at him or anything because his eyes are lingering on Suzie as she is talking with Hal across the room. He knows Dick for the most part, enough to know that he wants a serious answer.

He looks away from Dick looking at Suzie and his eyes travel.

They take in the way Iris giggles as she feeds Barry a bite of her pastry, the way Jason and Joan are laughing as Wally and Artemis argue, the way M'gann doesn't interrupt but instead squeezes Conner's hand and continues looking at him endearingly as he talks with Clark. They don't miss the fact Orin has not removed his hand from Mera's very pregnant stomach all night, or the way Diana leans her head back against Bruce's shoulder to whisper something into his ear, or the look of adoration Kaldur has on his face for Cassie as she is laughing with Katar and John.

(Okay, so maybe, quite possibly there is a chance he had been a little wrong about what he said.)

A hand falls on his shoulder and Ollie is standing there, smiling like the small doubts inside his head that his old protégée wouldn't show had been utterly crushed and he was perfectly fine with it.

"Do you think I could borrow him for a minute or two?" he asks, eyes shifting to Dick and back to him, "If that's alright with him, of course."

"It's fine," he assures. He's been expecting this all night, though before turning to leave with, he casts a look over his shoulder and calls out, "Hey, Rob." The Boy Wonder stops and turns his head back around to meet his eyes. "No. I didn't really mean it. Not anymore."

He smirks like he had known his answer all along. The kid is really too smart for his own good.

... ...

They can't exactly go _outside_ (paparazzi knows they're all in there, but doesn't know they're without their masks, for obvious reasons), but they step out of the huge room and into the hallway for some fresher air. It's not at all too loud inside the room but it's even quieter outside and probably a more suitable atmosphere for whatever they're supposed to be talking about. He has two or three guesses.

"Congratulations, by the way," he says after a moment. "I got to tell Dinah earlier, but…"

Ollie smiles. "Thank you. It means a lot coming from you, you know." Yeah, he supposes he already knew that. "It's just… I don't know. Did it surprise you?"

He shakes his head. "Let's just say that I kind of figured it wouldn't be that hard of a decision for you." His hand slides into his pocket. "She's the one, huh, old man?"

Ollie laughs. "She's the one. And I'm not near old yet," he adds, making the younger man smirk. "But, I guess I'm just curious how you feel about it. I know you were pretty strict when it came to your work and whatnot…"

"I know you're not asking for my approval over your _marriage_, right?"

His old mentor chuckles and runs a hand over his chin. "Yes, I guess that's what I'm doing." He looks at him. "It doesn't seem silly to me."

"No, I guess not." Sometimes he forgets how close they were, and little things like this make him think maybe it's okay to put the past in the past. He doesn't want to go back to what they were, but maybe salvage what survived and take it with them to the now. "I've just recently gotten over most things I believed from before," he tells him, "And, I'm happy for you. You should know that."

The man's answering smile is the brightest he's seen, let alone received, from him in what feels like years. There may or may not be tears in his eyes, but he doesn't point it out.

Ollie places a firm hand on his shoulder again and takes a moment to just _be_. He's alright with this. This resolution of theirs is probably long overdue.

"I'm glad you feel that way." And, alright, he'd be lying if he said that he wasn't the slightest bit surprised when Ollie continued with, "I'm glad you feel that way because I want to ask you to be my best man."

... ...

His apartment is dark and cold when he comes home, and it started to pour on the drive home. He runs his hand through his hair when he gets inside, kicking the door shut and dropping his briefcase onto the couch. The clock tells him it's a little past midnight, but he doesn't feel the least bit tired. He declined Wally's invitation to go back to Mount Justice because there was _something_ dragging him back home.

He stumbles upon that "something" when he walks into his bedroom, flicks on the lights, and finds his bed isn't empty like he left it.

She stirs underneath the covers and combs her fingers through her hair, glaring at him. "Turn the damn light off," she grumbles. "What are you doing home?"

"I should be asking you that." He crosses his arms over his chest and leans against the doorway. She rolls her eyes and flips onto her side, propped up on her elbow. "What are you doing here?"

"You _lied_," she chuckles. "You were supposed to be gone for the weekend."

"Last time I checked, it wasn't supposed to mean anything to you." She smirks like she expected him to say that. He doesn't find it as irritating as he should. "What are you doing here?" he repeats.

"It's cold outside," she sighs, lying flat on her back. Her head rolls to look at him, her chin touching her shoulder slightly. "I thought a bed might help."

He doesn't want to think where she may or may not be sleeping every other night. He assumes she has a home, or someplace she goes to at the end of the day that's not his apartment. But, like he said, he doesn't want to think about it right now, so he just turns off the lights and walks over to the bed. The rain reminds him of that night in that motel room and how they look so much better in the dark.

She grasps for his tie and kicks the covers off of her in the same second, tugging him down, fingers already undoing the buttons of his shirt. Her nails scrape along his skin as she is nearly ripping his clothes, tossing them in vague directions around the room, and when she reaches his belt he groans and mutters, "Cheshire," under his breath.

Her lips curve upward into a smirk, but it isn't later, somewhere between all of the moans and gasps and sighs that she presses her lips to his ear and whispers, "Jade."

And then she comes undone beneath him.

... ...

Small things start changing around his apartment. He pretends not to notice them, and she pretends like she's not doing it. In other words, they both don't want to talk about it, so they're not going to.

There's an extra toothbrush in his bathroom now, and a hairbrush, dryer, flat iron, and clear pouch with hair-ties and bobby pins. A makeup bag is now in his cabinet above the sink, and there is a pink bottle of conditioner beside his shampoo. Women's clothing, some with impressive labels that makes him question whether she bought them or stole them, fill the once-empty spaces of his drawers.

He wants to believe she's trying to move herself in, except it doesn't sound like something she'd do.

But every day this week more stuff has turned up in his apartment, and every night this week she's slept in his bed, so she must not be planning to continue staying wherever all this stuff is coming from.

... ...

He stumbles upon them after dropping the toothpaste cap, because he had to bend down near the small waste bin and happened to look in. The fact he has to find out _this_ way makes it ten times worse.

It's just before dark, and she should be coming home soon, but he gets into his car anyway and drives down to the nearest convenience store. He ignores the looks two or three people in line give him when he reaches the register to pay and dismisses any attempt at small conversation the cashier tries to make. Usually, he'll be nicer, but he's not in the mood to pretend to listen to the comments.

She's sitting at the kitchen table, her feet propped up on an empty chair, when he gets back.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he demands. He tosses what he bought onto the table so that it slides right up to her and she can't pretend to not know what he's talking about.

She narrows her eyes and looks pissed. "If you saw it, why the hell did you buy another one?" she snaps.

"Because you're taking it another time for me to see." Out of all the times he's let her to whatever she wants without giving up answers, to be the one calling the shots, this is _not_ one of them.

He expects her to put up a fight since she doesn't take kindly to orders, but she just snatches the box off of the table and storms her way into the bedroom and straight to the bathroom, and he follows. There's nothing private between them anymore, so he honestly doesn't care if she takes it right there. She's taken it twice before, but those had the lines and he got the one with the _words_ so there's no doubting it.

It manages to seem even harsher when she tosses it into the sink a few minutes later and the word _pregnant_ is staring back at them in the too-bright lighting.

She pushes past him back into the bedroom and he grasps her arm and repeats, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Do I have to spell it out for you?" she nearly growls. "I'm not going to… I _can't_. _We _can't."

"That's _bullshit_," he snaps. Had it been any other situation, he would've taken into consideration the fact she indirectly admitted to vulnerability, but she's using it to justify an _abortion_ and it's not okay.

"Is it, Roy?" (No, it doesn't surprise him she knows his name. She lives in his apartment, sorts through his _mail_, it was bound to happen.) "We're nowhere near stable, and our work? _My_ work – we can't put her through danger like that…" She blinks. "Him! Whatever it is!" She's frustrated and not thinking straight, which is kind of throwing him off right now.

It's not as if he _doesn't_ see her point, and that she's obviously debated about this for a while, thinking things through, and isn't doing this off of an impulse like everything else.

But he's been looking into her eyes a lot more intently lately and he can _see_ things there, like she's finally comfortable showing him emotion or maybe he's just getting better at reading her. He does this now and even though he's never seen her scared, she can tell she is about this. They're not married, nowhere near getting engaged. They haven't even been on one _date_. Their work deems them as enemies.

And now there's a fine line separating them from becoming _parents_ and, yeah, he can get why it's rational for her to get an abortion and they can act like nothing happened. Except the wild part is that he looks at her and doesn't see himself leaving her. It doesn't seem wrong for them to be together anymore, not in his mind. The guilt he used to feel doesn't come like it used to. It's strange.

So he pulls her to him and kisses her, wondering somewhere in the back of his mind when he started falling for her.


	2. Part 2 of 3

He gets a call from his home number at work towards the end his lunch break, and he finds it odd she's still at the apartment in the middle of the day. Though, he had no idea what she did otherwise, and will have to make a note to ask her one of these days. Caught off guard, he answers it with a neutral, "Hey."

"I'm about seven weeks pregnant."

Sometimes a typical greeting isn't such a bad idea. "You are?"

"So says my doctor."

"A trustworthy one, I'm hoping." _Seven weeks._ He goes back through the days in his head. This meant that the night of conception had been that night in the motel. _Of course._

"I had a life before you," she reminds. Yeah, that's the unsettling part, but he obviously doesn't tell her this. "Anyway, I just called to let you know. She gave me pamphlets to read."

"Good to know," he chuckles. "Hey, my lunch break is pretty much over…"

"Then I'll see you when you get home," she says, voice light (and almost _teasing_ if he didn't know any better), and hangs up.

It's the most normal conversation they've ever had.

... ...

According to the pamphlets, the mother-to-be could be experiencing morning sickness as early as the fifth week, which would probably explain why she ran for the bathroom when he cracked open a can of Pepsi. Needless to say, all of the soda he had was tossed out the very next day (he dropped them off at Mount Justice for the others).

"Soda is a _no_, then," he says, earning a glare from across the table. "Alcohol is obviously a _no_, too. Not too much coffee, and beware fresh fruit juices and unpasteurized milk."

"Who the hell drinks unpasteurized milk?"

He rolls his eyes. "I'm just reading what it says. We have to figure out what you're able to eat and drink."

She purses her lips but doesn't say anything, just lets him read the rest of the pamphlet to her to tell her that soft cheeses, undercooked meat, anything with raw seafood and eggs, deli meats, and leftovers are now off of the menu. They always have takeout, or something easy they can just heat up in the oven or microwave for dinner, so pretty soon one of them has to start actually _cooking_ their meals.

He has a bad feeling that it's going to be him.

... ...

She likes to pretend that this doesn't change anything, even though it has.

He's 100% sure she's keeping it. She hasn't given him a solid answer, and if she's been to more appointments then she's been hiding them from him, but he just _knows_. She carries herself differently now, taking it easier on herself. She pretty much does everything the pamphlets tell her to do and avoids the things they tell her _not_ to do. It's more than good to know she's just as serious about this as he is.

Her hair is tied back into a ponytail that night and she tosses the stack of pamphlets onto his lap as she settles beside him on the couch, folding her legs and tucking them under herself. She has two spring rolls and a scoop of vanilla ice-cream on her plate. They're not touching or anything, but _still_. Gross.

He opens a pamphlet and points to where it says '_you could be experiencing food cravings and aversions'_ underneath Week 9.

She knocks it out of his hand and snatches the remote from him.

Yeah, she's still in control. The more limits the pregnancy puts on her, the more she tends to take it out on him. If anything, her control has only doubled.

As she is flipping through the channels, his phone rings and he picks it up without really checking so it takes him by surprise when Cassie is suddenly exclaiming into his ear, "They set a date!"

"What are you talking about?"

"Green Arrow and Black Canary? They set a date already!" There is a squeal beside her, which he guesses is M'gann since Artemis doesn't squeal and Suzie seems a bit too soft-spoken to.

Jade throws him a look and he shakes his head. "Well, that's great, and all. But they got engaged a month ago. What's the rush?"

Cassie laughs. "Gee, do you always have to be the stick-in-the-mud, Roy? With our work, the question's more like what _isn't _the rush?"

"Then why haven't I heard anything official about you and Kaldur?"

She makes this noise that's halfway between a scoff and a gasp, and he tries not to laugh. He can imagine the girl has a blush on her cheeks, and probably would have punched him with her superhuman strength and left an ugly bruise had he been standing next to her when he said it. "I called to tell you ahead of time and you repay me by teasing me? Roy Harper, I thought you were a gentleman."

"Yeah, well, things change." He wonders if the fact his arm drops over Jade's shoulder as he is saying this, his hand brushing her forearm, is pure coincidence or if it's supposed to mean anything.

(He's going to deem it a coincidence and move on.)

... ...

He kind of assumed that when she figured out she was pregnant and started adjusting her diet and habits then she also understood that there was to be _no more Cheshire_.

It was just such a given in his mind that it hadn't crossed that she might still be doing her work until he walked into Mount Justice and found there to be more chaos than normal.

Several members of the League crowded around the large, circular platform with varying degrees of distress and contemplation on their faces, so much so that he barely had to look at anyone before the words, "What happened?" were being yelled out of his throat. They all kind of pause and look at him, then at each other, and then back at him.

"Roy," Dinah murmurs, like she's hesitant as to how she wants to deliver the news. She stands in front of him, looks up into his eyes, and sighs. "They got hurt."

"What?" He practically yells at her.

She winces at his volume but says nothing. Ollie moves to stand beside the both of them, shoulders stiff with worry. Diana has her fingers over her temples. Barry is pacing a hole through the floor. Hal has his arms crossed and is kind of just _standing_ there, frozen or something. Even Clark is there, hands clenched into fists so tight that his knuckles lose their color, with Orin and Red Tornado at his side.

The only mentors, he notes, that are not present are Bruce and J'onn. Bruce is in charge of the Team, the entire _League_, so if there's a problem then he's definitely there. But if J'onn was gone…

"M'gann?" he asks. Dinah and Ollie look at each other. "Was it M'gann? What the hell happened?"

Dinah takes his hand and draws a shaky breath and fills him in on everything.

On how the Team was tasked with retrieving more information, how they had ended up being tailed by Shadows assassins, how they had been drawn out to a construction site that was a dead end and had no choice but to fight, how Conner had been about to knock out the one assassin that hadn't been taken care of when M'gann had leapt and taken the blow and had lost a lot of blood and they're just not _sure_.

"Shadows?" he barely gets out. His blood is cold and he has half a mind to run back out and back to the apartment before he can ask, "Who in the Shadows?"

"They identified three." This from Ollie. "Hook, Black Spider, and Cheshire."

He doesn't stay to hear the rest.

... ...

He finds her soaking in the bathtub. They bring back memories of that night in the motel, those small traces of blood swirling around in the water, except now he actually _cares_ that it's there.

"What the hell were you thinking?" he yells. He's _pissed_ and knows what she did was stupid and wrong, but he can tell that she knows it, too, because she actually flinches when he bursts into the bathroom and her jaw kind of falls open a little when she's looking up at him. He knows what she looks like when she's hesitant or maybe even kind of scared, but she's _guilty_ now, too, and it's there on her face.

"It had to be done!" she shouts back. "It was a job that Cheshire would've taken, and if I hadn't, they would've known something was wrong."

"And that's reason enough to endanger yourself and the _baby?_"

"The baby is perfectly fine." She stands from the tub, water spilling out, and wraps a towel around herself. Her hand falls over her stomach as she says, "I wasn't stupid, Roy. I knew to be careful."

"No," he argues, though voice lower this time, "if you knew to be careful then you wouldn't have gone and done it at all. You wouldn't have taken the risk. You could've gotten yourself killed tonight."

"You underestimate me, don't you? Or you overestimate your little sidekick friends," she sighs. But instead of exasperated and teasing, her tone is strained and a bit forced. "Besides, killing off Cheshire was the plan from the beginning. Or did you think I was in it for the praise or the money?"

"It sounds like something Cheshire would do." He crosses his arms. "And I heard what M'gann did."

"Your little Martian friend chose to jump in front of that hit. I didn't need her to save me," she hisses back. "I had my way out of that situation."

"It was still M'gann's blood that got spilled to save you."

"Something Hook and Black Spider know nothing about. All they know is Cheshire is fatally wounded, lost a lot of blood, and is out of commission. They won't come looking for me."

She steps out of the tub and cinches the towel a little tighter around herself. He watches her the entire time, eyes narrowed from behind his mask, and when she tries to walk past him and into the bedroom he grabs her arm. It's not with nearly enough strength to hold her, and she can easily slip away, but she indulges him a little by not freeing herself. She doesn't look at him, though, not even as she speaks.

"The baby is fine," she murmurs. "My doctor… she vaguely knows about my _work_. I just got back from a private check-up not long before you came storming in. The baby is fine," she repeats.

He doesn't lessen his grip but instead runs the pad of his thumb across her smooth skin. "No more Cheshire."

"Cheshire ended today, Roy. She's dead." She slips herself out of his hold and waits until she's already in the bedroom to say, "For now."

... ...

The atmosphere at Mount Justice is considerably brighter when he returns the next morning, which is an environment he could really use right now.

Everyone is crowded inside the spacious but considerably small (in comparison to the rest of the mountain, anyway) infirmary. Most likely all of the mentors stayed overnight, or just got back before him, because all the same people are there in the room.

Their injuries are thankfully not fatal. There are definitely cuts and bruises, a few somewhat deep gashes to their sides (Artemis), a broken arm (Kaldur), a sprained ankle (Wally); but they're a tough group of kids, so it's close to nothing to them. The only one considerably banged up is M'gann, who is lying almost completely still in her bed. Bandages wind around most of her form, but a smile is there on her face.

Conner seems like a wreck, emotionally speaking, and he sympathizes with the boy. M'gann jumped in front of Cheshire, purposefully taking the blow, and he had a feeling it's because she _knows_.

So, it's pretty much his fault, too.

"Alright," Wally says, "Roy's here, now it's a party! Hey, did you bring—_ow!_" He throws a hand over his ankle as Artemis mutters, "Idiot," under her breath.

"Kid, look, you're not really helping my cause here," Barry says. "Iris and your folks are already out to get me for letting you get shoved around."

Artemis snickers as Wally protests, "I did _not_ get shoved around! And is that the only reason you're visiting? To save yourself?" Barry laughs. "You could at least bring some donuts or something."

The older speedster winks and gives a thumbs-up before zipping out of the room.

"What's the matter? Is the outside world a less interesting place without me?" Dick jokes, earning a laugh from Cassie and Diana, and an amused smirk from Bruce.

"Always, Rob," he chuckles, turning to Wally to add, "Sorry, but I didn't bring food for you, man."

"Poor baby," Artemis teases, a smug smile crossing her face when the speedster scoffs loudly. Ollie laughs from her bedside.

"It was thoughtful of you to come at all," Kaldur assures, grabbing his attention, and he walks up to the Atlantean and the two bump fists.

Orin places a firm hand on his shoulder. "It's good to see you, Roy. It's been a while."

"Yeah, well," he exhales, his mind wandering back to Jade. She was sitting on the couch putting her hair up into a ponytail, a fresh mug of coffee and some foreign black and white film playing, when he had left the apartment. He's not assured that she's going to laze around the house all day, and neither are on speaking terms for the moment after last night. "I've been otherwise preoccupied."

In the bed beside them, Suzie tilts her head slightly and asks him, "Is there something bothering you, then? Something we can help you with?"

"You know we're always here for you," Hal adds. "Just if you need anything, don't be afraid to ask."

He opens his mouth to respond, only to be cut off as the door bursts open again and Barry is standing in the middle of the room with three large boxes of donuts in hand. "Anyone hungry?"

'_Saved by the bell,_' he thinks to himself before walking over to the speedster and opening the top box. He could really go for some breakfast right about now.

... ...

"_Roy, can you hear me?_"

His hand pauses briefly over the box as he reaches for his third donut, and he grabs it and hopes no one noticed his flinch. When he looks at M'gann, she is tearing a piece of her own donut, but when he asks, "_Is there anyone else on this line?_" he sees her shake her head a little, widen her eyes, and then dismiss it when Conner asks her if something was wrong.

"_It's just us,_" she assures. "_I did have to tell Uncle J'onn to not listen in, though, so I'm sorry. I don't mean to intrude, but I… I needed to know._"

"_I have a feeling you already do,_" he admits after a short pause.

"_Cheshire… her thoughts were pretty loud, and when I heard, I wasn't sure what to believe. But knowing that she might really be… pregnant, I couldn't just let Conner…_"

She doesn't finish that sentence and he's glad. He wants to pretend like he doesn't know how close it had been.

"_So that means it's true, then? You and Cheshire are really having a…_" The word is left unsaid, and it feels strange that she's having a hard time saying it. "_Why haven't you told any of us yet?_"

"_There's no easy way to break news like this._"

"_We're your friends, Roy. You know that we're going to be here for you._"

He expects her to say more but she doesn't, so he just munches on his donut and looks around the room. Everyone is blissfully oblivious to their mental conversation, which is kind of the point, but for a brief second part of him wonders what the reaction would be if they had heard M'gann. It would save him the trouble of doing it himself.

"_Hey, Roy_," she says after a few minutes have passed. "_Can I ask you a question?_" He meets her eyes from across the room and she takes it as a yes because she continues with, "_Are you keeping it?_"

"_What?_"

"_I mean_," she rushes to add, "_Are you planning on raising your baby together or… It's none of my business, but… Do you want to become a family with her?_"

He looks away from her gaze, and even if she doesn't say it out loud, her voice seems like a hesitant whisper as she asks, "_Do you love her?_"

He takes another bite and doesn't answer.

... ...

When he gets back to the apartment, Jade is there in workout clothes doing stretches atop a yoga mat he didn't know she owned, another film (Vietnamese with subtitles, and in color this time) playing.

Her left leg is stretched out and her right leg is bent so that her foot is tucked underneath her, hands braced against the mat as she is twisted to the right. He kind of just watches her for a minute because she's flexible and he knows this, but she's stretching just to stretch and it's just _weird_ to see her doing something relatively _normal_.

She looks over her shoulder at him and has this half-smirk kind of smile on her face, like she's just noticed he returned. She is—_was—_an assassin and assassins _notice_ things, so he doesn't buy it.

"How are your little sidekick friends?" she asks. He narrows his eyes. No, he's not at all surprised she figured out where he disappeared to. Not much surprises him when it comes to her these days.

"Fine," he mumbles. "M'gann knows."

"I kind of figured that when she jumped in front of that boyfriend of hers," she exhales in a laugh, and her eyes are kind of dangerous when she adds, "I thought we finished this discussion last night."

"We did. This is a different discussion." She arches an eyebrow but twists away from him, shifting so that her spine is straight and the balls and heels of her feet are pressed together. He waits for her to place her hands over her feet before continuing with, "What's your plan after this? Are you keeping her?"

"Was last night not clear enough for you, or these past few weeks? I—"

"Not that." He pulls off his mask and walks over to her, arms crossed over his chest. "You're not considering adoption, are you?"

She glares at him. "What are you getting at?"

"I'm talking about a family for her, or him," he says. "Our child deserves it, but is that something we can provide for her ourselves? Or were you going to take her for yourself, is that the plan?"

She kind of gives him this _look_ that seems like he's hurt her. It pisses him off that all it takes is that look for him to start feeling guilty about discussing this. "There is no plan!" she snaps, getting up. "I'm not going to toss around ideas with you of how to get rid of our child, Roy."

"I don't mean it like that," he argues. "But you said so yourself, she shouldn't have to go through this, suffer consequences because of _us_."

She puts her hands on her hips and kind of narrows her eyes at him but doesn't actually say anything back. She's a very smart woman, he knows she is. He's sure that this issue has crossed her mind before now, but the Jade standing in front of him isn't acting like the Jade he knows. She looks almost as desperate as he feels, like she hates the idea of giving up their baby as much as he does.

And, if he'll be perfectly honest with himself, he kind of hates the idea of losing _her_.

"This is a shitty situation," he says, and he's not sure if he's talking about their child or just _them_ in general, but he says it because regardless, it's very true.

Her eyes don't seem as dark as he knows them to be when she looks at him and mumbles, "Yes," in this small voice, and he thinks that maybe she might hate the idea of losing him, too.

... ...

They don't bring it up again. They're going to have to eventually, but it's kind of an unspoken agreement that it'll wait until later. So they fall into this kind of normal routine where they pretend like there's absolutely nothing wrong with this situation and they just focus on revolving themselves around the baby.

"By the way," she says as she sits herself on the countertop beside where he is pouring his coffee, a stack of mail in hand, "this came the other night."

He would've asked why she didn't tell him sooner but they only now are on speaking terms since their argument that night so that's probably why.

"Tossed out all the junk mail," she continues, "so it's just bills now. Nothing interesting except for this," she adds, sticking a thick, cream-colored envelope in front of his face. He takes it from her and she snatches his mug from him before he can set it down, sipping.

"I'm surprised you didn't open it."

He misses the look she shoots him (well, he knows it's there, just chooses to ignore it) and flips it over. He recognizes the same fancy script that was used for Ollie and Dinah's celebratory engagement dinner and assumes this is the save-the-date Cassie had called about a few weeks ago. Sure enough, there is a jade green invitation with a bow and cursive font on the inside with the information.

The wedding is in six months. "That was fast," he mumbles aloud without realizing it.

"Didn't they just get engaged less than two months ago?"

He answers, "Yes," before pausing to think of how she knows this. Then he remembers this is Jade and she probably does a lot of snooping. As long as she knows that it's Oliver Queen and Dinah Lance that are getting married, not Green Arrow and Black Canary, he's going to let it slide for now.

"They in a rush?"

"You could say that." He slips the invitation back in, and his hand unintentionally falls onto her bare thigh, just above her knee. "It's in six months."

"I saw," she replies, taking another sip. Then she kind of arches her eyebrow like she's catching onto something and adds too casually, "I'll be very pregnant then. Do you plan on going alone?"

"And leave you and the baby? No."

"But you're still going?"

"Of course." He takes his mug back and pretends like he doesn't catch the smirk on her face.

He shakes his head and brings the rim of the mug up to his lips, making eye contact with her as he drinks. Then she tosses her head back and laughs in that sultry voice of hers, hooking her leg around his hip and yanking him towards her. His coffee spills a bit onto her thigh before he can put his mug down but she doesn't even flinch at the temperature, just wraps her legs around his waist.

"Always trying to be the hero," she says flippantly.

And it doesn't register to him that he just agreed to take Jade to the wedding because she has her lips over his and a hand through his hair before he can stop it. Not that he _would_ have, but still.

... ...

He goes with her to a check-up because it's overdue, and the kind of smile that forms on Dr. Kyle's face when she sees Jade gives it away.

"Jade," she greets, extending her arm, and he half expects the two women to hug. Instead, she places her hand on Jade's shoulder and looks at him. "This must be the father."

"Roy Harper," he introduces. "Nice to meet you."

She shakes his hand and tells him, "Pleasure's all mine," in a tone that suggests she probably knows more than he thinks she does.

He looks to Jade for some sort of explanation, but she just shrugs and lets Dr. Kyle lead them into a room. Jade strips off her sweatshirt and hops onto the reclined chair, lying down and pulling her black tank up so that the flat of her stomach is exposed. Dr. Kyle takes a minute or two to prep the equipment and pull on a pair of gloves before wheeling her chair between Jade and the computers.

He moves to stand beside Jade and is slightly surprised when she sucks in a small gasp as the gel hits her skin. He chuckles and she shoots a glare at him, which Dr. Kyle laughs at.

"Sorry. Probably should have warned you," she chimes in.

Jade rolls her eyes. "Not like I've been hit by anything worse, of course," she mumbles, causing Dr. Kyle to smirk.

"Of course." Dr. Kyle picks up the rod and presses it to Jade's stomach, rolling it gently along her skin and watching the image on the monitor constantly shift.

He wasn't sure how he expects Jade to react to this. He knows this isn't her first ultrasound even if it's _his_ first, but when he looks over at her, she is looking at the monitor that with this sort of _shine _in her eyes that he believes nothing less of becoming a mother could bring out of her.

"Well, here's your baby," Dr. Kyle announces.

The image on the screen is kind of fuzzy and dark and alive with motion, but he has no trouble making out the profile of a head on this small little lump of a body and it's kind of _amazing_.

He doesn't know when Jade slipped her hand into his, but she squeezes it without really noticing because when he looks down at her, her eyes are still glued to the screen. He just runs the pad of his thumb over her knuckles and looks back at the monitor. He can hear Dr. Kyle moving around a little but the sound of a steady thrumming suddenly fills the room and grabs his attention.

"Your baby's heartbeat," Dr. Kyle supplies when he looks at Jade. "Jade's heard it faintly before."

"It's beautiful," he mumbles. There are so many things running through his head right now, but those two words were the only things that formed properly and they sure as hell sum up his thoughts.

"Yeah," Jade whispers, just loud enough for him to hear, and he looks down and doesn't miss the smile that graces her face when she repeats, "beautiful," in a low murmur.

It's her most beautiful smile yet, and his favorite. He may have to tell her that someday.

... ...

Dr. Kyle gives them pictures of the sonogram and recording of the heartbeat, and has them schedule their next visit before they leave.

He takes Jade out for a late lunch afterward (he took the day off) and the closest thing is Bibbo's diner, but after living for so long off of takeout, fast food, and anything instant, he figures a restaurant meal is in order. They end up eating at an Italian place after driving around for a few minutes, and a waitress compliments them on being a beautiful couple before taking their orders.

"She so wants a tip," Jade says once the waitress is out of earshot.

He laughs. That's totally a _Jade_ thing to say.

She smirks and puts her elbow on the table and her chin in her hand, looking around.

She spends the few minutes it takes their meals to come to comment on just about everyone in the restaurant. He would have told her it was rude and whatnot, except he knows she could care less. He doesn't mean to encourage her by laughing at everything she points out, but whatever, it's not a crime if he finds it amusing.

"I'm going to hate maternity clothes," she says while they're eating. She dips a chunk of her garlic bread in the pasta sauce and takes a bite. "I'll start to show soon."

"Dr. Kyle says you should be wearing them now."

"Yup."

"Should I take you shopping then?"

"No need. I've already gone," she informs. "I had to do something to get out of the apartment while you were at work, you know."

She looks up at him through her long eyelashes and he notices that shine in her eyes again. He's been seeing it a lot recently, like during the ultrasound.

"Where are you getting this money from?" He's been meaning to ask her, since he's noticed small things like the fact that their fridge and cupboards never seem to look empty for more than a day at a time, or the fact that more books keep appearing on the entertainment set shelves.

"I had a life before you," she reminds, sounding amused. "There's a lot of money saved up from all of the past jobs I've taken. I didn't steal anything, if that's what you're implying."

He wasn't, but being a hero and dating one of the Shadow's most elite assassins, it makes the little guilt he feels for their situation even less, so that must mean something.

"Good to know."

She laughs again, lighter this time, and starts talking about her second trimester.

Their waitress overhears the tail end of this conversation and looks a little excited, like she won a bet, and congratulates them. She offers them any dessert they want and doesn't charge them for it (they see this later when they ask for the bill), and it isn't until there's a slice of tiramisu sitting between them and they're taking turns eating when he realizes that this is pretty much their first date.


	3. Part 3 of 3

He doesn't realize how long it's really been since he's been back to Mount Justice until he's walking through and being tackled with hugs by four different bodies before the computer can finish recognizing him. There's an amused laugh somewhere off to the side where he sees Dinah standing beside Conner, Kaldur, Suzie, and Artemis, and he lets out a laugh as well, steadying himself.

"Okay, I get the point, I'll come visit more," he says, disentangling himself from the others.

"Where've you been, man?" Wally demands. "It's like you dropped off the face of the planet after your last visit or something."

"I've been preoccupied," he says. He hears M'gann giggle, but he's not sure if it's out loud or in his mind because no one else seems to acknowledge it. Then again, she could just be a giggly girl.

Dinah places a hand on her hip and gives this challenging smile. "You came just in time. We're doing hand-to-hand combat training. Care to join?"

"You're on. I call Kaldur first," he says, and as they are taking their stances, Dick and Wally mutter "aw!" simultaneously somewhere off to the side.

Sparring is pretty much what they do for the next two hours and he is everyone's partner at least once, including Dinah when she was trying to demonstrate maneuvers. That doesn't go too well, for him, anyway, because he ends up flat on his back. He knows Dinah is trained and perfectly capable of tossing a man up to three times her size out a window, so it doesn't bruise his ego, or anything.

"I've been meaning to ask you," Dinah says as he is pulling himself up (he smirked and batted her hand away playfully when she offered it), "Did you get the invitation in the mail?"

"Yeah. Sorry, I meant to answer but," he shrugs one shoulder, "you know, _busy_."

She laughs. "Don't worry about it. So I'll tell Ollie one for you?"

"Two, actually." It kind of just comes out because he's correcting her, but in retrospect, judging by the nine pairs of wide eyes now staring at him, he probably should've taken a less blunt approach.

The first one to react is Wally, and it's to zip up right in front of him and exclaim, "I _knew_ it!" in his face. "You _do_ have a hot girlfriend!"

M'gann laughs and he just smirks back at her and shakes his head because they both know who knew anything before Wally.

"Roy," Cassie gasps beside the Martian, her eyes wide with excitement as she flies over to him, "Please tell me that the idiot is right for once!"

"Surprisingly enough."

"Atta boy!" Dick snickers and holds his hand out for a fist bump. "Way to go, tiger."

Suzie and Conner don't say anything but just give him these warm smiles and look honestly happy for him. Conner lowers an arm around M'gann's shoulder and pulls her to his chest, and Suzie comes to stand beside Dick, putting her hand on his arm gently and returning the wide grin he flashes at her. Then Kaldur has a hand on his shoulder and says, "I am happy for you, Roy. She must be special."

"I'll say," Dinah chimes in. "She must be a bigger deal than you're letting on if you want to bring her to the wedding to meet all of _us_."

And he doesn't even have to look at M'gann to know that there's this wide smile plastered onto her face when he sort of exhales a laugh and says, "Yeah, she is."

... ...

He hates the fact that everyone keeps staring.

He's not stupid and he sure as hell isn't blind, so he knows that Jade is just crazy sexy and beautiful by nature and people are just going to want to _stare_. He gets it; he doesn't like it one bit, but he gets _why_. But when they can't walk through one store without hearing a whistle or the murmurs then it kind of gets to him. And Jade is either very good at ignoring it or perfectly oblivious, because she just carries on.

"What's got you all worked up?" she asks, not even looking at him as she trails her finger along the spines of the books along the shelf.

"You mean you don't feel that?" She looks at him this time, one eyebrow arched. "Everyone's staring at you."

"Of course," she laughs.

"And that doesn't bother you?" he questions.

She shrugs her shoulders. "Not really," she admits. "Why do you have a feeling that it bothers _you?_"

Because it does. He's not going to say that out loud, ever, but she kind of smirks and shakes her head so he probably doesn't need to.

And it's not even just because she's the mother of their child. That's definitely a big half of the reason, but the other half of the reason is that he's just jealous. His temper is pretty short, but his tolerance is kind of shorter, so all those eyes checking out Jade? Not something he wants to let slide.

"Well, it shouldn't," she says after a few minutes have passed. "You don't hear _me_ complain when it happens to you."

She plucks a book off of the shelf to examine the front and back covers, but his eyebrows raise and he just _looks_ at her. He wants her to elaborate on what she means, because in his mind, he thinks she means that she actually pays attention to when other girls look at him and that this actually bothers her. "You get jealous?" he asks, and he knows he sounds too amused because she glares at him.

Instead of saying, "of course," or something along those lines, she says, "Don't get too cocky," and goes back to browsing through the bookstore.

... ...

That night he finds himself sitting in his sweats on the bed, pillows between his back and the headboard as he flips through channels. He can hear the sound of running water from the bathroom as Jade is washing up, but other than the small part of his mind that hears the channels as they flash across the screen, he is too lost in his own head to notice much else.

It's probably why he doesn't see the bathroom light turn off to his side, and only snaps back into focus when the TV is being turned off and Jade is jumping onto the bed, straddling his waist. Her nightgown rides up a little and he places his hands on her thighs underneath the hem of satin material.

"I have to admit," she begins, "seeing you get jealous earlier was pretty hot."

He arches an eyebrow. "Was it?"

She laughs this sultry laugh and leans in to whisper against his ear, "But don't tell anyone."

He groans lightly when her hands fall onto bare chest, her fingertips trailing a feathery-light touch along his skin as they dip into the contours of his abs. This woman is going to be the _death_ of him.

So he captures her lips with his own and each kiss follows one another in a quick procession, leaving only time for breaths that get shallower and shallower as each kiss gets longer and deeper. He slides a hand over her waist and quickly flips them over, knocking pillows out of their way, and places a wet kiss on her neck just above her pulse that has her tossing her head back in pleasure.

"As long as we're telling secrets," he mumbles against her skin, "I kind of wish you were showing more. It'd give me a more justified reason to knock someone out for hitting on you."

"So possessive," she purrs. "And insecure."

"You don't exactly try to make it easy on me," he breathes.

She hums rather contentedly as he showers her skin with kisses, moving his lips in a path up her shoulder and to her jaw. "And what would make it easier?"

He doesn't answer, just kisses her lips hungrily. But he wonders if him running his thumb over her left hand and then over her ring finger is supposed to be an answer or just an impulse.

... ...

"So, are we ever going to meet her?" Wally asks between pizza slices.

They're working on their fourth large order because not only does Wally eat more than three people alone, but Conner and Kaldur are big boys so they do, too. Then Dick (of _course_ it's him; _of course_) challenges them all to an eating contest that Cassie and Artemis are entirely up for and manage to convince M'gann (Martians are hungry people) and Suzie (small does _not_ apply to her stomach, too) to join.

Basically, their food court lunch ends up costing over $100 when drinks and breadsticks and refills are added into the equation. But, whatever, he's hardly seen them lately so he doesn't mind paying.

"Maybe he'll bring her out of hiding when you learn to eat like a normal person," Dick snickers.

"Everyone _knows_ I need to eat this much!"

"Not everyone, Bay Watch."

"I'm a growing boy!" Wally argues. "She'll understand that I need my carbs."

"That doesn't make it _any less weird!_ Could you at least _try_ to act a bit more normal?" Artemis nearly yells. "She'll think there's something wrong with you. Not that there _isn't_, but still."

And the rest of their table laugh as the happy couple continues bickering, oblivious to the rest of the world. Beside him, Cassie sips her soda and leans in a little. "Roy, is this really such a good idea? Bringing her to the wedding?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the _League_," she says, voice barely above a whisper, "About _us_. Is it really… It could be a little risky. Does she even _know_ anything?"

"I… must also voice my concern," Kaldur adds hesitantly. "Perhaps it would be wiser to wait until things are more permanent before putting—"

"Things are as permanent as it gets right now," he interrupts in a slight huff.

When he looks up, everyone is sort of staring at him wildly. All except for one pair of eyes, and he doesn't need her to say it out loud or even in his head to know how desperately M'gann wants to jump in and defend him. He really, _really_ appreciates how fiercely loyal she has become to him, to keep a secret from her closest friends despite the fact that it is entirely her place to tell.

Damn. He has to tell them.

Of course he knew he was going to, and he _wanted_ to later, but it has to be today. "Guys—"

"Did you guys tie the knot and _not_ tell us?" Wally demands, his hand slamming down on the table.

"It's not that!"

Conner's eyes whirl onto the girl beside him as M'gann slaps a hand over her mouth, eyes wide and darting to him in a mortified and apologetic panic.

He sighs, and his chair makes a loud scraping noise that can barely be heard over the noise of the food court as he stands up and mutters, "Let's pick this conversation up at _home_."

... ...

For that one moment, you could have heard a pin drop on the opposite end of the mountain. _That's_ how silent it had been.

Wally and Dick looked as if he had just slapped them in their faces. Suzie and Artemis had hands thrown over their mouths that had fallen open. Cassie had let out this strangled sound as she choked on her own gasp. Kaldur's eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets, and so had Conner's before he turned them onto M'gann, who had her fingers laced together and pressed against her lips.

It was a better reaction than he had imagined.

"_Pregnant_," Wally gapes. "You're… you're just trying to pull a fast one on me—_us—_right?" His head snaps to M'gann. "Tell me I'm right!" She bites her lower lip and he mutters, "Oh, my god."

"And you guys _aren't_ married. Unless you kept that from us, too," Cassie exhales dryly. It stings. Not that it was uncalled for, but he still _feels_ a little pang at her words.

"No," he says sternly. "We're not married, or engaged. She… lives with me."

He can practically feel the tension in the air. They're trying to see reason with this situation, why he would get himself into it in the first place, but keep coming up fruitless. It goes against most things they've been taught from the beginning, like being careful, not getting involved, blending in and standing alone.

"How far along is she?" Kaldur asks.

"She's in her nineteenth week."

"And you knew?" This is from Conner, who is addressing an abnormally silent M'gann.

"I… yes," she answers. "I didn't mean to intrude, but his thoughts were pretty loud. He needed someone to understand. He needed help." She frowns. "He _needs_ us."

It takes all of two seconds for Dick to chime in with, "Alright! You know, big guy, you could've just come clean and asked for help a long time ago. But I'm not changing diapers."

"Neither am I," Wally adds, crinkling his noise and crossing his arms over his chest. "That one's _your_ department, _Dad_."

The word was like a fresh slap to the face: _Dad._ He'd heard _father_ all the time from the doctors and pamphlets and whatnot, and it didn't feel like such a shock. Even when they had wandered into the baby section of a department store the other day, it hadn't been so dramatic. But hearing it from someone he has known since he was barely a teenager, still a punk little kid, is a whole different wakeup call.

"It looks like you freaked him out, Bay Watch," Artemis chuckles.

A hand being placed on his shoulder seems to snap him of his daze. "Maybe it would be a better idea if you were to introduce her _before_ the wedding. Or, at the very least, make the announcement."

He doesn't disagree with Kaldur. He got off the hook with these guys because they're his friends, but the League… _Batman_… would certainly _not_ appreciate learning this the first day they meet her.

If he were to be honest, he's worried. Worried about how much the League knows of Cheshire (will they recognize Cheshire just by _looking_ at Jade?), worried about how much Jade knows of the League (they're _his_ family, too; albeit, some he considers more a very, very _extended_ family, but nonetheless family that is in it together). Either way, he's playing with fire on both ends.

(He now understands the saying, "between a rock and a hard place.")

... ...

Jade and Cheshire have become two entirely different people to him by now. Cheshire was a cold, detached assassin; quite merciless; a bloodstained beauty. Sure, both of them have the same rebellious flair and wild, untamed personalities and clever intellect; but Jade is so much more wholesome. She is charismatic, daring, charming, and warm. She's so full of life, while Cheshire was so full of death.

Cheshire he saw in the shadows, when rain and thunder and lightning stormed overhead. Jade he sees light, when she is bathed in the sun and warmth.

And perhaps the biggest difference of all is that the Team _adores_ Jade.

It's sort of an out-of-body experience to see them gush over her, completely in love with her. He knows who she was to them before this, so it's just plain creepy for the first few minutes it happens. They're walking around the mall so she is able to distract them with the arcade in order to avoid a potentially dangerous game of 20 Questions.

The only two that don't seem overly excited are M'gann and Artemis. He knows that M'gann knows who this is, so he doesn't blame her for having mixed feelings.

Artemis, on the other hand—well, he didn't miss the way the color drained from her face upon looking at Jade. He also pretended not to hear a brief exchange between the two away from the others, which got him thinking to when he spoke with Cheshire in that holding cell that seemed years ago ("_Hey, where are your little sidekick friends? They're always fun to play with. Especially Ar…chery girl. I like her_.")

But the two mostly act like nothing is going on for the remainder of the afternoon, so it's probably a conversation for another day.

"So," Jade sighs as they head for the car at the end of the day, "those were your little sidekick friends. They're fun."

He exhales a laugh, "They're in love with you."

"It would seem so." She looks up at him and winks. "I'm willing to bet that they're not the only ones."

... ...

He's sitting on the couch flipping through channels when she walks over, her hair is dripping wet and clipped up from her shower, and it falls onto his arm when she sits herself on his lap. Her legs drape over the arm of the couch where his elbow is and his other arm wraps around her waist, hand resting on her thigh. She leans into him, her elbow resting against the couch as she pushes a hand through his hair.

"Do you want to know the gender of the baby?" she asks.

"What?" He says this distractedly and looks away from the screen to meet her waiting eyes.

"Dr. Kyle said during our last checkup that we'd be able to tell the gender as early as the eighteenth week," she informs. "It's my twenty-third."

"You don't want to keep it a surprise, or something?" He doesn't mean to sound completely amused, but he _is_.

"I think knowing ahead of time may be more practical," she shrugs. She's trying to act nonchalant about it and he isn't buying it.

"Look, if you're _dying_ to know about the gender then…"

She scoffs, and he would've believed she was mildly offended by that comment if she hadn't followed it with a laugh. Of _course_ he wants to know, but at the same time, he likes the surprise.

He draws a breath, about to laugh, but as he turns to her he sees that she's kind of just frozen, like she's afraid to move a muscle. He has a fraction of a second of total panic where he drops the remote on the side table and puts his hand on her shoulder, nudging softly. "Jade? What's wrong?"

She shakes her head and grasps his hand, bringing it down. Before he can as what she's doing, she's pressing his palm plat against the top of her stomach and not even a second later he feels something bump softly against it. Then he's kind of frozen there, too, staring at her hand over his over her stomach. When it happens again, his eyes snap up to hers and she's smiling, maybe even tearing a little.

"The baby's kicking," he breathes because he just feels the need to _say_ it.

Jade exhales a laugh and watches as he traces his thumb over her skin.

He looks at her, her expression crossed between total fascination and complete adoration, and there's that shine in her eyes again. He kind of loves it.

He pulls his hand out from under hers and tucks his index finger under her chin, tilting her head to look at him, and he doesn't miss the smile she graces him with before pressing their lips together.

He kind of loves _her_, too.

... ...

"_Roy_," Jade calls when he is in the room, and he kind of mentally curses because she's got that _tone_ that makes wrack through his brain to see what he screwed up.

He walks out to find her standing in the kitchen with her arms crossed. "Why didn't you tell me we were going out tonight?"

Oh. Crap, he forgot. "Dinah and Ollie left a message?" She nods. "Damn. Sorry, they called the other day and I made plans. It totally slipped my mind." She rolls her eyes and mutters something that sounds a lot like, "_men_," under her breath, and he suppresses a chuckle and puts a hand on her waist. "Look, I can call and reschedule. It's just supposed to be a dinner thing, and they wanted to meet you."

He throws that in there for good measure, and it must work because she shakes her head, "No, no. They're already on their way over. But next time, a little _warning_ would be much appreciated."

He laughs and follows her back into the room.

(Well, okay, it wasn't _exactly _just a casual phone call the other day.

He dropped the bomb on Dinah just the previous week when she was down at Mount Justice. Needless to say, she freaked out a little and dragged him to the League, where he pretty much got mixed reactions about keeping the baby and staying with Jade. Most of them were pretty much on his side, but it was because of Diana—who can talk Bruce into anything, really—that he got their approval.

Not that he would have left Jade and their baby if he didn't get their blessing, but having the entire League there to help his situation and protect his new family for the price of having Dinah and Ollie over for dinner to meet her wasn't a bad option, either.)

She's wearing this strapless white dress with green palm leaves around the skirt and he throws on a brown sweater. They're matching without really matching, and the only reason he slightly cares about something like that is because even if he doesn't have to worry too much about it, he really wants Dinah and Ollie to adore Jade just as much as the Team did. It would entirely help their cause.

When the phone rings again, he answers it this time. "We're downstairs already," Dinah tells him. "Do you want us to come up?"

"No, we'll be down in a few," he says.

She tells him that Ollie insists on carpooling, so they're all going together, and then says to hurry the hell up because they're wasting gas. He laughs.

"Charming," he says. "I thought we were all supposed to be making a good impression here."

"No, _you_ two are the ones worrying about making a good impression," she corrects. "We're judging."

"Whatever you say, _Mom_."

He hands up after she scoffs at him, and Jade is beside him as he sets the phone down, one hand on his arm. He must look more nervous than he thinks because she kind of smirks at him. "Are you going to be this tense for the entire dinner?" she teases. "You of all people know just how charming I can be. So if you're worried, don't be."

"I'm not worried," he lies. She winks at him and heads for the door.

When they make it downstairs, Ollie's car is idle in front of the building and Dinah climbs out of the passenger seat as they're walking over. "Roy," she greets. She pulls him into a hug and squeezes harder than she should, and he can tell by the blink-and-you'll-miss-it smirk she flashes him that it's intentional.

Then she turns to Jade, who extends her hand. "Jade Nguyen," she offers, smiling, "You must be Dinah."

"It's nice to finally meet you." She emphasizes _finally_ in a way that makes both women look at him—Jade in amusement, and Dinah in accusation. Then Dinah turns back to Jade and her eyes water slightly as they fall on her stomach. She pulls the younger woman into a hug, which startles him and Jade a bit, though Jade returns the embrace. "Congratulations," Dinah says as she pulls back.

"Thank you," Jade returns.

Dinah puts a hand on her arm and squeezes firmly bit lightly, her voice a bit soft as she says, "Welcome to the family."

... ...

For dinner, they end up going to the same Italian restaurant he and Jade had eaten at after his first ultrasound with her. They find out that Jade had a French father and Vietnamese mother, which is why she speaks both languages fluently, and also learned Mandarin from a Chinese man who adopted her after her parents died young, whom she also learned martial arts from.

(He's not sure if any of this is true, and no, he's never thought to ask before. Okay, he's _thought_ about it, but he figured if she was trying to move on in life then talking about the past should be avoided.)

After the mention of her deceased parents, however, they don't pry for any more information on her past.

They begin talking about wedding details a little before their food comes, and Jade seems genuinely excited about the whole thing. It kind of freaks him out how _comfortable_ this is, especially for him. She steals food off of his plate and always absently has her arm against his or a hand on his knee as they eat and chat. It feels nice. He could definitely get used to them being like this more often.

By the time dessert rolls around, they begin talking about her pregnancy and Jade laughs when she gets asked how she reacted.

"It was… a shock," she admits.

"The best kind," he adds, and she smiles and nods in agreement.

They obviously can't tell them all of the details when they start asking for some, but their minds seem to be in the same place. They tell them that they met while he was on business and she told him about the pregnancy a few weeks later. They don't mention the fight about abortion, just say that it took a lot of adjusting from the both of them since it happened all of a sudden. But once they worked things out and she moved in, things were definitely better.

"Well, we're very proud and happy for the both of you," Ollie says, looking first at Jade then at Roy, smiling.

"Are you guys going to find out the gender, or are you leaving it as a surprise?" Dinah asks.

"_I_ want to find out," Jade says, casting a playful smile, "but Roy's unsure."

"Really? I figured finding out the gender might make everything easier," Dinah says, "You know, when buying the clothes and whatnot."

"I never said I disagreed," he argues.

"Sure, baby," Jade says, patting his cheek. He chuckles and shakes his head.

When Dinah and Jade get up to use the bathroom before they leave, Ollie turns to him with a wide and knowing smile. "I think you're hoping for a girl. You were both automatically referring to the baby as a _she_ or _her_ the whole time," he points out. "It made me think you guys had _already_ found out the gender."

"Huh. I never noticed." Now that he mentioned it, they _always_ seemed to refer to their baby as a girl, since the beginning. He didn't think much of it until now. "I guess we do."

Ollie smiles warmly. "She's a beautiful girl, Roy. Smart, charming, definitely strong… she reminds me of Dinah in a few ways." He meets the older man's eyes. "She's definitely a girl you want to hold onto."

He nods in agreement. "That's my idea."

... ...

"I like them," Jade says as she is stepping out of the bathroom later that night. "Dinah has fire to her."

She climbs over him and lies down on her side, propping herself up on the pillow with her elbow. "I'm guessing you like that about her," he chuckles.

Her smile is like a little kid being caught red-handed.

"Hey," he says, shifting so that he is on his side facing her, "what you told Dinah and Ollie earlier… about your past…" He pauses slightly, half expecting her to say something. "Was… how much of it was true?"

"Most of it," she answers. "My father_ was_ French, and my mother Vietnamese. And I do speak those languages. But, they didn't die when I was younger. Life just wasn't ideal so… I ran away. Just took off, kept running. I got picked up by an old man who straightened me up a bit, taught me more than just martial arts, introduced me to certain people, gave me a mask, and… the rest is history."

"Do you regret it?"

"No," she exhales slowly. "I liked being the best at what I did."

She glances at him from the side, probably expecting him to feel disgusted or at the very least unnerved by this, but he isn't. He doesn't like it, but he knows that it's the only life she's known.

"But," she continues, "It's not a lifestyle I'd want to put our child in, just like I imagined heroism wouldn't be your first choice for her." She grins a little. "Or him."

He chuckles breathily and nods.

"You… look surprised," she points out.

"I am," he admits, "that you don't seem to mind giving up that information. You were always just so secretive before, or something."

She looks up at him from underneath her long eyelashes, voice impossibly soft as she tells him, "If you want something, I'll give it to you." And he knows she means more than just her life story.

... ...

"What do you think about tattoos?" he asks as they're stepping out of the elevator on their floor from the parking garage, having come from another one of their Lamaze classes.

When he looks over at her she has one eyebrow arched and her head tilted like she is seriously pondering this question. He thinks she might actually be. Then she smirks and looks him in the eyes when she answers, "Probably wouldn't get one for myself. Well, maybe." She chuckles. "But they're unbelievably sexy. Why do you ask? Are you getting one?"

He shrugs, which she knows means _yes_. "Aw, and you want my approval first?"

"Shut up."

"That'd be hot, Roy, nothing to be ashamed of. Just don't get something stupid," she tells him.

"Oh yeah? What do you consider _stupid_ then?"

She taps her chin with her index finger. "Something tacky, overdone: skulls, roses, flags, hearts, faces, names." She stops her stride briefly and shoots him a look. "You're not getting my _name,_ are you?"

"No," he blurts out instantly, kind of shouts it, really. He doesn't mean it in an offensive way, and she doesn't take it as that. He's just glad that she seems to be on the same page with the fact that, while it may be romantic and totally fine for other people, tattooing anything resembling each other onto their bodies is just _not_ an option for them. "Maybe it'd be easier for you to tell me what you _do_ approve of."

She hums contemplatively as they round the corner into their hallway. "Get something… _tribal,_ native."

"What?" He laughs a little and she rolls her eyes. "Do you have some sort of weird Navajo Nation fetish I should be concerned about?"

"Perhaps," she says, licking her lips. "That _would_ explain my thing for archers."

He chuckles. "Good to know."

They stop in front of their door and she leans against him as he unlocks it. "Don't get it some_where_ stupid, either. Get it on your arm." She smirks again. "I've always _loved_ your arms."

"Mm." He drops a hand on the small of her back and presses their foreheads together, mumbling with his breath warm against her skin, "Good to know."

And, just as he is about to bring their lips together and she is closing her eyes, he kicks the door open, spins her around, and pushes her (gently, of course) inside. Then suddenly the lights are being turned on, and there's confetti falling (which will have to be cleaned up later; damn, he didn't think that part through), the flash of a camera going off, and voices exclaiming, "_Congratulations!_"

Jade is kind of frozen on the spot, looking around at the faces of people she didn't expect to be in their apartment, which is really just Dinah, Ollie, and the Team.

It takes all of two seconds for her to figure it out, turn to him, and shove her fist against his stomach. It's not _painful_, but the impact isn't all that pleasant either. "You _ass!_ You set me up!"

"Hey," he protests, unable to wipe his smile off as he is gesturing back inside the apartment, "it was _their_ idea."

Dinah is laughing loudly as she comes over to them. "Well, you're due in about a month," she reminds, plucking stray confetti from Jade's hair, "and we didn't want you to be without a baby shower."

"You guys _really_ shouldn't have…"

"It's something to take my mind off of the wedding that's in _three weeks_," Dinah adds.

Jade gives a look that's slightly a smirk but mostly a smile as she says, "Oh, so now I'm being _used_ as a distraction?"

"Come on," Cassie insists, "If it will get you into it, we can skip right to the present-opening!"

Jade gives him a you're-sure-as-hell-paying-for-this-later glare before Cassie takes her hand and pulls her towards the living room.

He chuckles and shuts the door behind him. Ollie walks over to him and puts a hand on his shoulder. He's about to ask the blonde man what's up, because he looks _way_ too smug for there not to be something up, when he says, "So, she has an archer fetish?" and is guffawing seconds later.

He promptly gets shoved.

... ...

Three weeks later, he finds himself standing in their room in front of the mirror hanging on the wall, adjusting a forest green tie underneath his collar.

Jade steps out of the bathroom and dangles a necklace that she has between her thumb and index finger in front of his face. It matches the subtle diamonds dangling from her ears and clipped through her hair, but none of those diamonds compare to the one wrapped around her finger. It's not on her fourth finger, not just yet, but it's on her left hand around her middle finger for the world to see.

He takes the necklace from her and she turns around, draping it around her throat.

"Claire?" he asks. She shakes her head. "Valerie?" He clasps the necklace together. She purses her lips. "Caroline?"

"They don't _have_ to be French, you know."

He chuckles. "Just going through the options," he says, placing his hands on her shoulders and looking at their reflection. "I have a feeling you _want_ it to be French, though."

She smiles and turns around, his hand sliding onto her waist while the other grasps hers. He twirls the ring around her finger and her head bows to watch as he does this. Then she looks up at him and says, "We can talk about it on the way to the car. We should get going soon, Best Man."

"I don't understand why they'd want it so early in the morning."

She laughs. "Morning weddings can be very beautiful if they don't hold the bachelor and bachelorette parties the night before."

He laughs and guides her out of their bedroom, picking up his keys along the way. They stand at the door as she is pulling on her shawl, and he knows he's staring because her lip quirks upward and so does an eyebrow and she laughs, "What?"

"I love you."

She blinks. It's not the first time he's said it, but every time, she gets this kind of _look_ on her face, like she is in a daze.

Then she hits his right bicep lightly and as he flinches (it's still a little sore there, even under the layers of his blazer and shirt and gauze; it's probably _why_ she did it), she slides her hand over the back of his neck and whispers, "You too," before bringing their lips together. It's the closest she'll come to saying it back, at least for now, but he knows she truly means it even if the words don't form properly.

As they lock the door behind them and are walking towards the elevators, arms linked, she kind of pauses them in the middle of the hallway and he peers down at her. "What?"

"What about… _Lian?_"


End file.
